Down on the Dock
by BearsBreath
Summary: Dirk is a abandoned 19 year-old, spending the summer at a lake front cabin that belongs to his unoffical adoptive grandfather, Jake English. One day, a boy is found half-dead on their dock. Dirk takes him in, realzing that this kid doesn't want to remember anything but his name- Dave. Rated M for language and Stridercest. (yummy)
1. Pilot

Down on the Dock - 12/26/2012

Characters:  
(HomeStuck) Dave Strider, Dirk Strider, Jade Harley, Jake English (Grandpa)  
(Original Characters)  
Fate Happers

Summary: Dirk is an abandoned 19 year-old, spending the summer at a lake front cabin that belongs to his unofficial adoptive grandfather, Jake English. One day,  
a boy is found half-dead on their dock. Dirk takes him in, realizing that this kid doesn't want to remember anything but his name- Dave.

== (Dirk's POV)

I was making breakfast in the kitchen of that old, worn down lake-front cabin. It was my 19th summer, and it was a cool morning in late July. Grandpa (Mr. English, to some.) had taken me in 5 years ago, when my parents left me alone, and never came back. I often think of them. No one knows why they left. I think it was to get away from me. You know, maybe they didn't want to tell me something like, "Oh Dirk, you're adopted!" or, "We're out of money and can pay for this house or you anymore. Happy camping!" or at least "We're in a lot of trouble from the CIA. Gotta run!" Not a fucking thing. But I don't ever talk about it. So Pops forbade me to think about it, 'cause he says it makes him worry that I'll go grimdark- whatever the fuck that means. I think Pops has seen some tough shit in his life, so his grand-daughter Jade Harley and I just go along with it.  
I've known Jade since I was 10. We used to run into each other a ton at church when my mom got on her religious kicks. Jade and I would play together with the other kids after the sermons were over. We couldn't ever really see each other during the church session though, seeing as she was 4 years younger than didn't mind though. She was my best friend up until I was 14, when my 'rents disappeared. That's was when the only way I did anything was when Grandpa E nearly broke down the door to my house bringing soup and bread, and physically forced me to eat. Then he would drag my sorry ass to church every Sunday. But I never said anything for awhile. Not even to Pops. Jade would try to get me to play with her, but I only went out side on the porch to watch. I never did anything, until one day I got a postcard from my mother saying that they were on a new adventure around the world. That was it. No "I love you." No "I'm sorry." No "I'm coming back." Grandpa helped me burn the message, and that was when I finally started to interact again. They didn't waste their time thinking about me, so why should I waste my life thinking about them? Jade and I picked up right where we left off. She's my little quirky sister, and I'm that "overly dramatic older brother." Whenever she says that, I put my wrist to my forehead and fall on top of her. She'll squeal real loud, and then Grandpa tells us to calm the fuck down. I smiled to myself then, hearing grandpa's in the living room muttering to the paper. This was peaceful. This was where I belonged this summer. Everything was so light here, it didn't seem real. I whisked the pancake batter vigorously, adding blueberries as I went. I started humming the tune to some song by Jack Johnson, and the sound of frantic feet pounded up-up-up the wooden steps outside to the kitchen.  
The frame door swung open and slammed shut; Jade entered the kitchen flustered.  
"Hey, Jade, what's-" I started.  
"Dirk, come quick!" Her voice was frantic. "I was down on the dock, and there's a boy passed out with blood on his head! I panicked, so I came back." My apron was already off, breakfast batter aside on the counter. I spoke quickly. "Do worry, you did good. He was on our dock, right?" She nodded. "Alright. Tell Pops and call an ambulance. Show them the way to the dock. Meet you there." I hugged her reassuringly. She breathed deeply into the crook of my shoulder, and I swear I could feel the tension roll out of her. I gave a smile, and was out the door with flash-step speed. The dock was only about 150 yards away from the back door, just through a small forest.  
Running had always been easy for me. For some reason, a flash-step speed was like a second nature to me; resulting in reaching the some-what new dock in under a minute. The lake's water was completely still this morning- the mirror-like surface providing a crystal clear reflection of the sky and the bottom of the dock. I located the boy, blonde and bloody. The skin on his forehead right next to his temple was cut, the small gash bleeding steadily. He was pale and drenched, wearing only a red baseball cut shirt, and a pair of black cargo shorts similar to my own. His arms were splayed above his head and feet hanging off the dock, and I could barely see his chest move. I put my ear to his partly opened mouth, stared at his chest, and listened. No small "whoosh" to be heard. My fingers found his wrist, and probed the veins underneath the soft flesh, searching for the heartbeat. None. Shit.  
I had to mentally prepare myself for what was about to come next.  
"Dirk! Do the windy thing!" I heard, Jade rushing down the dock, a can of white spray-paint in her hand. She still didn't remember the correct term for CPR. I grunted, and took off my white tee. I tossed it to her. "Fold that up and gently apply pressure to the cut. Stop the bleeding while I'm doing this. Where are the EMTs?"  
"They're following the spray-paint line. They were grabbing some stuff I think." Her hands were almost as quick as mine, folding the cotton and pressing it to the boys head. I grunted, and tilted his chin up, plugging his nose between my thumb and forefinger. I took a deep breath (partly to steady myself) and pressed mouth against his, and gave him everything had in my lungs. 1. 2. My fingers locked, and pumped just under his rib cage. 1. 2. 3. 4. All the way to thirty. Repeat. Where the fuck were the Paramedics?! Breath. Breath.  
4 people came running down the dock 15 pumps into the fifth round. They tapped my shoulder and shoved me aside, taking my place and blocking my view of him an Jade. I was dizzy, and an eerie fuzz started to blur the people around me. I saw them place the teen on a gurney, and hobble off, taking the kid back up to the truck. Jade scooted over to me, and placed a hand on my shoulder.  
"You look pale. Let's get you back up to the cabin. You need to sit down for a bit." I merely nodded. On the way back up, I couldn't help but notice the roaring silence of the green forest. The dirt was clean enough under my feet that every step Jade and I took was silent, and weirdly, it hurt my ears. My breathing was ragged from asthma, and I started to see double of everything. By the time I got back up to the cabin, I was tripping over all four of my feet, and a couple of Jade's, too. My legs were Jell-O, and I couldn't make it inside before a EMT came over and told me to lay down and told me how to breathe right. Asphyxia was my enemy, and my inhaler was normally right in my pocket. But I rushed out too quickly, and forgot it on the counter.  
"...In...haler..." I breathed to Jade. "...Counter." She stood quickly. "On it." After she left, a different EMT came over to me. He was saying something... Good job, I think? I nodded and reached for my inhaler when Jade got back. 1. 2. Hold. Blow. Normal. It helped a ton. "The boy?" I managed as I got up slowly.  
"He'll be fine. The cut wasn't as deep as it looked. A bandage is all he really needs, so we don't even need to take him to the hospital. We can fix him up right here in the back of the truck." Someone said. Good. We'll have guests, then. "Jade, do we have strawberries?" She looked incredulously at me.  
"...Yes? Why?"  
"Because they would go good with pancakes. Go wash your hands. We're having company for breakfast."  
She giggled. "Okay, but Dirk?"  
"Yeah?"  
"You might want to put a shirt on first."  
"Oh right."


	2. Introductons

Down on the Dock

Chapter Two: Introductions

=(Dirk's POV)

A/N: OhmyglobIloveyoudon'thurtmeI'msorryIdonteven

I moved! And all internet was lost. But it's back now! Thank you guys so much for putting up with the wait!

ALSO: HUGE hugs and shout out to RomanNightmare, for understanding that my promises are pointless.

The story is kinda slow, but it will speed up since I have internet access now. :D

Much anticipated—

The sound of griddle sizzling and the smell of blueberry pancakes almost burning was nearly the only thing keeping me from falling asleep in the warm mid-morning light, streaming in through the skylights in the blue room. The blue room was made almost completely out of glass, save the floor, the two walls connected to the house and a few support pillars. Grandma Jane designed the room when Pops and her first moved in here. The ceiling was random assortments of colorful stained glass, forming a weird image of a green house. The two glass walls were seamless; a never ending view of the lake. Grandma J had some skills.

She also left to me in her will a hand written cookbook. Well, not specifically me. I never got to meet her, sadly. But Pops gave me the book because in the will, it was addressed to "the new cook in the family." It nearly brought a tear to my eye when I read "family," but I shrugged it off because I told Pops that I was over that "crying" stage. The book's binding was made out of worn leather and thread, which I had to patch up at least once a year, due to the fact that I used so often. I mostly used it during the summer, because things like blueberry pancakes every Saturday was traditional. But Pops doesn't like winters, so he told me tradition will only be honored in the summer and on holidays.

Anyway, the morning was surprisingly light. The kid was asleep on the couch, Pops was making sure that the kid was comfortable, Jade was setting the table, and I started humming the tune to the same song by Jack Johnson. It was nice… except for the fact that I could tell we all were thinking the same thing.

Was this kid in trouble? Was someone looking for him? How did he get up on the dock?

Oh well. I guess it would have to wait. Breakfast was ready.

"Jade, be a doll and go tell Pops to help the kid into the blue room for me? I need to glaze the pancakes." I was balancing the leaning tower of hot cakes on my right hand, and in my left I held a pitcher of powder sugar glazing. A post-it note in the cookbook told me that glaze would make the recipe "feel like old times once again." I don't know what times Jane was referring to, but oh my glob it is so delicious. That woman must have won awards someplace.

"Yeah. Thanks Dirk!" Jade slipped out of the room after setting the last glass. Low muttering could be heard from the other room as I plopped the pancakes onto each plate, and dumped the glaze on top of them. Ever so slowly, the kid and Pops hobbled together into the blue room, and sat down. Pops mumbled something to him, and the kid paused, and gave a slight nod in response, looking slightly uneasy.

"Dave, this is Dirk, my grandson by choice: only because he cooks a good deal better then Jade." Pops grunted out as he started to scarf down what was on his plate. I grinned as Jade elbowed him with slight gaspy "Grandpa!" and a "slow down! You're too old!" I offered my hand to Dave, and ignored the weird rhythm my heart started to beat as his nervous red eyes met my orange ones. His hand was cold, pale, and smooth except for the very pads of his fingers. For whatever stupid reason, I had to stop a shiver from running up my spine. Instead I gave him a warm smile.

"Nice to meet you conscious, Dave. Are you feeling ok?"

"Uh, I guess so? I… I don't remember anything. What… what the hell happened!?" His voice sounded like he was just starting to remember that he was in a stranger's house. His hand closed around mine like a vice, and just as his other hand tried to make a fist, I poked his bandaged head, effectively making him cringed in pain, and distracting him.

"Ya wanna say that again with manners, Dave? We're at the breakfast table for cryin' out loud. Calm down lil' dude."

"Dirk! Be nice! He's weak!" Jade's shrill whine made Dave cringed more. Now I felt sorry for him. I remember when Pops had to send Jade out of the room when I was so sick noise hurt. Pops shushed Jade as I sat down next to him, and started eating.

"He is not; you should've felt that grip." I said with a mouthful of cakes. I nodded to Dave. "I'll bet my pancakes you're hungry. Eat up, before Pops eats it first." His eyes met mine for a moment, a hand still holding his head. The eyes were debating. Whether or not to run. Whether or not to eat the food. Whether or not to flip out. I placed a hand firmly on his shoulder, and stared him down until nearly all the questioning faded from his eyes. He nodded, and turned his eyes to the food, and stared at it the way Pops stares at Jade. Protective. I chuckled and watched him take the first bite and I swear his eyes rolled into the back of his head a little bit.

Jade and Pops didn't seem to acknowledge the last minute and a half of exchange between Dave and I, given the fact that they were arguing over who gets the last pancake on the table.

"I'm an old man, Jade. I need it so I can feel happy." Pops said with a fake old-man voice.

"Old man my butt! You're only 54!" Jade's shrill voice was making Dave cringed again. I whacked them both in the hand with my fork, grabbed the last cake, and threw it onto Dave's plate.

"Thief!" cried Pops. His voice was back to its normal, devilish English self. Jade looked like she was about to cry. Dave stared at me like I just made him the enemy, but I merely flashed an amused grin.

"You guys are insane. There's more on the counter in the kitchen-" I wasn't even able to finish the sentence before Pops shoved Jade back in the chest to get a head start, but after the look of shock quickly faded of her face, she grabbed him by the caller and pulled him back into the chair, efficiently getting ahead in the race for the Eiffel tower of hotcakes. Dave looked at me with clearly a "WTF" face.

"Every Saturday."

"Ever?" Near shock coated his voice.

"Ehyeup. Want some more?"

"Eh, I favor living more."

"Good choice."

"Hey… Dirk? Can you please tell me what happened now? I'm kinda freaking out over here." His leg started to shake, and there was a tone in his voice I couldn't quite place. Pops and Jade stumbled back into the room with mouth full of pancake and grins on their faces.

I picked my words carefully.

"Jade found you this morning on our dock, unconscious and banged up. I had to—" Pops cut in with that shit eating grin on his face.

"Dirk here had to give ya the 'Kiss o' Life.'" His teased. I threw one of the center piece flowers at his face, a small pollen cloud puffing and making him wheeze. Jade laughed as I could feel my face warm. I didn't look up for a moment, but when I did the kid was looking down and had a slight worried look on his face. After sneezing a few times, Pops took control of the conversation.

"Look, son. What do you remember? What is the very last thing, the last image, that you can conjure?"

Dave shook his head, eyes closed. "I don't know."

"What is the date today?"

"June 21st, 2013."

"Close, but a whole week off. It's the 28th. Do you know your birthday?"

"December 3rd, 1995." I looked up to Jade, who had squealed and gushed.

"Oh my gog you have the same birthday as Dirk! Only, you know, a couple years behind. Hehe."

"Good. How old are you?" Pops continued as if she didn't say anything.

"17." Pops gave him a piece of napkin and a pen.

"Write your name and the phrase 'the quick cat…'"

I got up and walked outside to the little dirt path that lead to the dock, following its tiny twists. I'd let the kid have his privacy while he'd be treated like an incompetent child by Pops. The small forest patch was dimly lit; a stark difference compared to the dock on the barren water. The clouds rolled as I made my way down the dock with my eyes on the blood smear half way down it. I stopped when I reached it, examining the way it looked like someone dropped the kid up here from the water. Unless…

Unless Dave jumped from _something_ _on the water_ onto the dock. The blood didn't directly go to the edge. It was just a random smear in the center. What if there was a boat or something he took off of? I scanned the water next to me, searching for any sign of platform. Nothing. Just a piece of an broken oar, about 5 feet away under water. I could tell it was a oar because someone wrapped the thing in neon duck tape, and the water's surface was completely still.

I'll give the kid time. He seems lost.


End file.
